I'm a bit of a sports fanatic. Ask my wife. When the NFL season starts she calls herself the football widow. I enjoy watching hockey, although my team - the Senators - didn't make it very far into the post-season. I love basketball, although my Celtics lost to the Lakers in 7 games this year. I enjoy baseball. I like tennis and I'll watch soccer when there's nothing better to do.

Each of these sports have their own quirky activities. Take hockey. Players of this sport love to spit. They must build up a hell of a lot of mucus skating up and down the ice cause they're always spitting.

But hockey's long gone and baseball's in full swing (pun intended). They spit in baseball, too. Sunflower seeds, tobacco juice, and good old mucus build up. They also do something else in baseball. When players aren't slapping each other on the butt, they're grabbing themselves. Like this guy...

Prior to my recent stem cell transplant in April I spent four days undergoing radiation treatments. Knowing I would lose my hair I prepared myself by getting my hair buzzed off. But not too short. The barber used a #4 clipper.

But the radiation treatments were delayed. My hair grew. And several weeks after the last radiation session I started to lose my hair. But it looked pretty weird - short here, long there - so back to the barbers to get a buzz with a #1 clipper so that it would all be the same length.

This is a big change for me. I'm used to longer hair, making a trip to the barber maybe three times a year. But now I'm basically bald. I wear a ball cap, not just to keep the sun off my head, but also out of modesty. If I didn't wear the cap I'd surely feel conspicuous, think people were looking at me or worse, yet, laughing behind my back.

I needn't worry. My own family laughs right in front of me! My own wife lovingly refers to me as Mr. Magoo.

No, George, don't you remember? You said:If Obama wins instead of McCain then I'll eat my HAT.Not CAT.You really aren't getting this are you? Woo-Hoo Everyday Goddess. You be hangin' with the dufus this week. Congratulations!!! Thanks to everyone who played along and we'll see you again next Wednesday. And, hey, for an interesting variety of blog content click through on the links above.

It's a sign of too much time on my hands that I quietly cruise the tweets of Twitter and status updates of Facebook. I don't even know why I do it. All I come across are: - Georgina just found a magic bean on her farm - Ivan is stocking up on supplies in FrontierVille - Nancy needs treats to train her pet - Sandy scored a bajillion in Bejeweled Blitz The names have been changed to protect the idiots…er…ah..innocent. I have the following admonition on my Facebook home page: " I don't care about your bloody farm, or your fish, or your park, or your mafia." But of course it doesn't seem to work. Then there are the inane updates about a 2 year-old's toothaches, being sad and having a headache, just walked my dog, hubby's being cute again, so sad it's raining here, just gave my kitty some treats People…get a life! Like, you think I really care. Why are these people even my "friends"? But I'm going to get them back. Yep. I'm gonna start…

You know it's a slow news day when these kinds of stories capture the headlines.

Here's a guy that gives the rest of us dufuses a bad name.

In Austin, Texas last week some guy tried to rob a gas station with a gun... a caulking gun! He pointed the caulking gun at the attendant and demanded money. I wonder if he had "beady" little eyes and moved quickly.

This is just so stupid on so many levels.

"Uh, is that thing caulked and loaded?"

"Hands up. Any sudden moves and I'll seal you."

"No one will suspect me. I'll have an air-tight alibi."

The gas station attendant was some 68 year-old dude. 68? Yeah, he'd probably just been let go as a WalMart greeter. Anyway, he hit the 17 year-old robber over the head with a plastic trash can who ran away with his buddy...a transgender prostitute he'd picked up earlier in the evening.

In what must have seemed like a scene right out of the film 8 Heads In A Duffel Bag, Southwest Airline cargo workers in Little Rock Arkansas recently made a grisly discovery. Imagine your typical baggage handlers tossing around luggage and boxes and things in the cargo warehouse when all of a sudden a human head rolls across the floor. I don't know if it happened that way or not but somehow workers discovered 40 to 60 whole and partial human heads.

WTF? Yep, and after a little tete-a-tete they contacted the authorities. Now the airline would normally ship "human specimens for medical purposes" but in this instance it seems the cargo of craniums wasn't packaged properly. They were in plastic containers closed with duct tape as opposed to being vacuum sealed. Huh! Well, sure, that's a no-brainer.

Now, for me, this story raises a couple of questions. Number one is where the hell do the heads come from? Do people donate their heads to science? Not that I…

Okay so many of you knobs went for the obvious this week. Hello? Lights on but nobody home? I'm not talking about your high beams here. We better nip this in the bud. Here are some of the week's most titillating captions:

A man's dream girl: a pussy between the boobs.
But our breast...um, er...breast caption this week had to come from FreakSmack...

WARNING... DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME!The stunt pictured was performed by, or under the supervisions of,trained professionals. Attempted recreation could result in serious injuryincluding: puncture wounds, scratching, biting, nausea, loss of hair, problemssleeping, constipation, cat calls, and in rare cases erections lasting more than 6 hours...

The sun is shining on South Africa. South Africa is home to the 2010 World Cup. And the world it getting a glimpse of a South Africa they may never have seen...or heard before. Have you been watching soccer's World Cup? Of course you have...viewership in the States has doubled since the last Cup four years ago. If you have, you know about the vuvuzela controversy. If you haven't, you should tune in to see just what I'm talking about.

A vuvuzela is not a lady's hoo-ha. No, no, no that's something else altogether. A vuvuleza is a plastic one-note horn. And do fans blow them when there's a goal or a fabulous play? No. No? That's right they play them constantly from the opening minute throughout the game and into extra minutes. To the viewer it sounds like your watching, or listening to, a giant bee-hive. Oh, and it's very, very annoying. They are annoying to the point that there have been discussions about banning them. Players have complained …

When I spent a couple of weeks in the hospital back in April, following my stem cell transplant I wanted to let my family and friends know how my recovery was progressing. So I snapped a couple of pictures of myself so they could see for themselves.

My doctors think they've discovered what my problem is.
Now for some reason I didn't get a lot of replies to this note. No one seemed to notice my head had shrunk significantly.

So the next day I sent the following...

Any ill effects from your radiation? None whatsoever! Hey, the camera doesn't lie! For a look at how other Theme Thursday participants covered off "camera" just click here.

Why do they call it a Dutch treat when a couple share the cost of a meal? I've often wondered, but never knew. The only Dutch treat I'm aware of is from my childhood. I grew up in Scarborough which back in the mid 50s, long before amalgamation, was on the outskirts of Toronto. I lived on a street of strawberry boxes, a term used to describe the size of the houses. Two doors down lived my best friend, Jeff. Jeff and I spent a lot of time together, mostly at his place. Jeff's mom was Dutch and very hot. And she had some charming Dutch expressions when she got angry with us. Now, since I don't speak or understand Dutch I can only repeat what I thought I heard. One expression sounded like "hot for dick a ma" and the other I could have sworn she said "peein' in the sink". But I digress.

Since I spent a lot of time at Jeff's it only made sense that I often ate there. And here comes the Dutch treat. Jeff's mom introduced me to a …